


One Two Three Etc.

by AliLamba



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, Graduate School, Hook-Up, Skyeward Smut Fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 19:31:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6484705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliLamba/pseuds/AliLamba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nerds aren't typically her thing; she deals with enough on a daily basis. But, when the two people you wanted to sleep with turn you down, you're ready to lower your standards.</p><p> </p><p>For the Skyeward Smut Fest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Two Three Etc.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m such a sucker for smut-a-thons. Truly, if you ever want me to write fic (for like your birthday or something? y would u want me to write u fic) invent a smut-a-thon and I’ll say oh, yup. Case in point: thought I was signing up for one Skyeward bonetown fic, turns out I’m in for four. So. 
> 
> LET’S DO IT. SKYEWARD SMUT MONTH IS GO.
> 
> Prompt for week one: "I give you permission to wake me up if you get horny."

 

 

 

 

Technically, this has happened to Skye before.

Not with this guy, sure, not necessarily twice in one evening, but it’s happened before, that she laid it on thick, got rejected once (now twice), and decided to pick up someone else instead.

Tonight’s gimme is low-hanging fruit, some awkward grad student who wears _glasses_ to parties. It might be cute if she wasn’t still smarting from the two guys who said no, so when this one says yes, she’s not particularly enthusiastic about it.

“My place?” she asks him, and he does this arguably cute, flustered _Y-yeah, that’s be uh, that’d be great_ sort of thing, so maybe she doesn’t have awful taste.

And then they’re walking down the block to her apartment, which is just a crappy studio she shares with her cat, but she’s checking him out under the street lamps and he’s…well…he _is_ cute. He’s cute enough that she wonders who she was looking at before she noticed him, and why it took her so long. He’s super tall and has dark, short, thick hair, the kind you just want to grab and rip at just a little, and his lips are wide and tempting. Skye bites the inside of her lip, avoiding a grin. She’d sort of like to kiss him now, but she doesn’t want to scare him off.

“It’s just up here.”

He’s polite enough not to mention the dingy lobby, with its bank of mailboxes, worn tread in the linoleum leading to the stairs.

“The elevator’s been out for months,” she explains, though now she’s not sure why she’s lying – it’s never been _in_ service, but you honestly get what you pay for, and she didn’t mind saving the extra cash if it meant she also had an excuse to avoid jogging. He must be cuter than she originally thought, and it’s – there’s definitely something there, because the way he keeps looking at her, checking in on her mood, it’s sort of doing things for her. It’s doing things for her, and his appearance is doing things for her, because she’s noticing that he’s fit, and moderately well-dressed, and those are things she, well, that she _likes_.

Third time’s the charm, maybe?

He’s not even out of breath by the time they hit the fifth floor, her floor, and are walking down the hallway in relative silence. He’s carefully not looking at her now, which is maybe doing things to her _more_ , and that’s definitely something, sure, because she’s really biting down on her lower lip when she goes to unlock the door.

The cat starts meowing the moment she’s inside, and she picks it up, shushes it furiously, and throws it into the bathroom with some hushed apologies.

“Was that a cat?”

“Uh. Yeah. Is that going to be a problem?”

“No.” She meets his gaze, he looks a little lost in the world. “I love cats. I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, well, Poots won’t mind the bathroom for awhile. Don’t worry about it.”

“Your cat’s name is Poots?”

She looks at him for a long moment. “Maybe.”

Her hook-up starts looking around then, trying to take in the surroundings. She’s not really sure what he’s looking at (bed, dresser, crappy kitchenette, IKEA desk/dining table, thrifted couch) but she’s not going to stop him. “D’you want something to drink?” she offers.

“Yeah,” he answers too quickly. “Uh, water? Maybe?”

“I was thinking more like vodka.”

“Oh. Yeah. Uh, vodka’s good too, I guess.”

She’s grinning at his expense now, because his awkwardness is borderline adorable. She gets some cups from the dish drain and opens the freezer. “So what d’you teach?”

“I don’t teach.”

“Ugh. Teach, TA, whatever. What’s your subject.”

“Oh, right. Um, comparative literature?”

She’s back with the glasses, and she hands him one. “You know no one knows what that means, right.”

“I really don’t know why. It’s not very complicated,” he starts, pushing his glasses up his nose, and she can tell he’s about to tell her why it’s not complicated so she holds up the bottle.

“Don’t – no – that wasn’t an invitation.”

He frowns, just barely, like he was actually sort of interested in converting someone to the pleasures of whatever he ~~teaches~~ doesn’t teach.

It makes her feel bad. Just a little.

An awkwardness stretches between them, but, really, she’s not going to apologize for dodging his boring bullet.

Strike three, you’re out, maybe.

Skye downs her two fingers of vodka quickly.

“I don’t know your name,” she points out, for something to say.

“Oh. Right. It’s uh, it’s Grant.”

“Grant?” She looks him over. “You look like a Grant.”

“Well you look like a goddess.”

She rolls her eyes. This guy has just about zero game, and that is _not_ doing things for her. “Not sure I’ve ever heard of the goddess of Skye – “ she cuts herself short, because it sounds stupid when she says it out loud. “Not – okay – nevermind.”

“Your name’s Sky?”

“ _Skye_ , yeah, uh – yeah. Skye.”

“Sky.”

“…Yeah.”

“Well, Sky.” He holds up his glass to her. “It’s nice to officially meet you.”

“Thanks.” She pours herself another drink, drinks it with Grant, and then puts her glass aside.

He’s still nursing his vodka, which he’s tolerating surprisingly well, when she crosses the short distance to him, takes the cup out of his hand, puts it onto the counter, and leans herself against him. He’s quiet then, looking down at her, and she loves that, that he’s so tall. She smiles a little at him, puts her arms over his shoulders, ties them behind his neck.

“Do you do this a lot, Grant?” she murmurs, twisting her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. “Go over to girls’ houses late at night, after parties?”

“N-no,” he stammers, and that’s so fucking cute, she thinks. “Uh. This’ll be the first time.”

“You’re kidding,” she grins, eyes wide, unsure if she believes him. “Well. Lucky me, I guess.”

She leans up then, tugging him toward her by his long neck and thick hair, and their lips meet in the middle.

It’s a good kiss, she knows, because she’s had plenty. It’s a good kiss made better by how hot he is, how his breath is peppery with the vodka and sweet and savory with something else – she’s guessing that part’s him – and that’s the part she wants to get to know better, tonight, if he’s up for it. She leans farther into him, grins a little, because – yeah, she’s pretty sure he is. _Up_ for it. Haha, look at her dumb joke.

Grant opens his mouth for her and she moves the kiss along nicely. Things are happening to her below her belt and that’s good, that’s great, and her brow bunches a little as Grant slides his arms around her back, because his hands are _huge_ there, and that’s a good thing, that’s something to look forward to, and it’s making her curious to what the rest of him looks like naked.

“Are you – “ he starts to mumble, and that’s weird, because she’s kissing him, and he shouldn’t be capable of talking – “are you sure – “

“Am I sure I want to do this?” she supplies, not leaning out of the kiss, because he’s asking stupid questions better answered with action.

“No,” he surprises her by saying. “No – are you sure Poots will be okay.”

She does pull back then, abject dismay on her face. “Are you for real?” She pauses, shakes her head a little, tips her body back toward his mouth. “She’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

And he doesn’t worry about it, doesn’t worry as her shirt comes off, as his belt comes undone, as his jacket hits the floor and they maneuver to her bed. They’re sitting on it together, still making out, when it happens again –

“But are you sure she doesn’t need any water or anything?”

“ _Rrrgh!_ ” Skye expels, gritting her teeth a little and trying to smile, staring at him with mounting frustration. “Uh,” she tilts her head. “Have you ever heard of the toilet? I can’t get her to stop drinking from that thing. It’s gross on a normal day.” She grabs his face. “She’s _fine._ ”

And they’re back into it, and she thinks after a moment, yeah, don’t worry about it, this is great, great when he does this thing where he sucks on her lower lip a little, great when he slides her bra strap over her shoulder. Great when she teases his shirt up a few inches, feels hard abs under her fingers _oh hell yeah…_

“Maybe I should just check on her.”

Skye flops back onto her pillows.

“If you must,” she drawls, but he’s already up and halfway across the room.

She closes her eyes when she hears the bathroom door open, groans a little internally when she hears the designated _meow_ of her stupid, cherubic cat.

“Awww,” Grant enthuses. “She’s cute!”

“I know she’s cute,” Skye grumbles under her breath, but she’s getting annoyed that the cat’s meowing isn’t stopping, that it’s still going on despite the whole _let’s get busy and naked_ idea which Grant is apparently abandoning in favor of an _actual pussy._

Damn her adorable cat. She can’t compete with it.

Skye props herself up as she watches Grant duck into the bathroom. He wants to get the cat a little bowl of water, so she gestures like a lazy Vanna White to the cupboard where the bowls are, but then Grant wants to get the cat some food, so she has to explain where the cat food is, and then of course the cat wants attention, because she thinks it’s playtime, and suddenly Grant is sitting on the floor playing with her, and Skye is shirtless on her own bed by herself.

“Having fun?”

He turns at the neck, exhilaration dropping from his face too slowly to be missed. “What? Oh yeah. Sorry. Your, uh, your cat’s cute.”

She looks at him with slightly raised eyebrows and no smile. “I know.”

“Oh, did you want to, uh,”

“No, by all means, keep doing what you’re doing.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to get wrapped up here – “

“No. Just, I give you permission to wake me up if you get horny.”

There’s a beat of silence, while they stare at each other.

“I’m playing with the cat too much.”

“You’re playing with the cat too much.”

Grant sighs, collects the cat in his arms, stands and turns toward the bathroom. “Sorry Poots,” he murmurs to the cat. “Your mom and I have some stuff to do. It’s really, adult, human stuff – you wouldn’t be interested.” Skye can’t help the returning grin.

“Setting the bar low on purpose?”

“She knows my signature move already, Poots, this does not bode well.”

“Okay, stop talking to my cat, and get your ass over here.”

He grins then, dumps the cat in the bathroom with less aplomb than strictly necessary, and turns back toward her.

Where did his glasses go?

She doesn’t know. She also doesn’t know why – in the limited light, from this angle – all the dark edges of his face are thrown into sharp relief. His dark eyes, shade of stubble, broad shoulders and dark t-shirt…the open belt buckle…he’s looking at her, and it’s like, it’s like the definition of _hard_. She feels it all over, feels it in her blood and her bones, and it’s fucking _hot as hell_ the way he’s looking at her, and she has to wonder whether this guy she once took for bookish nerd in fact drives a motorcycle.

“Fuck, me,” she whispers to herself, and then Grant is crossing to her, and yeah, he’s not worried about the fucking cat anymore, he’s interested in _her_ _pussy_ , and that – okay, fuck her and fuck these feline metaphors, but when he kisses her again it’s with fucking _intent_ , and he’s only got a knee on the bed and he’s got his hands on her jaw and he moves _her jaw to accommodate his face_ , and that’s – holy crap that – that’s something.

His kisses are demanding of _her_ now, manipulating _her_ tempo for something he’d like, and that’s – that’s fine, but she’s really more interested in control right now, so she leans into him, and he lets himself be pushed back, until she’s on her knees on the bed too, and she’s reaching for the hem of his shirt and ripping it over his head, and his arms go up and then down as he lets the garment go, and then – her mouth drops open, it really does, because since when are TAs fucking _ripped._

“What do you teach again? Fucking gym?”

“I don’t _teach_ – “ he starts to say again, but she launches herself at him, and it’s all those abs and other torso muscles that let him catch her instead of letting them both fall, and then he’s turning them back toward the bed, falling back first so her knees straddle his hips, and she knows this position’s selfish of him but whatever she’s into it, because it means she can look down at his fabulous body while he unhooks her bra, and she doesn’t even care that she has small boobs because he’s half undressed and he’s delicious to look at, and – no chest hair, that’s fine, because praise the good lord he’s hot and she has amazing taste in men.

“This is such a good idea,” she applauds herself, because then Grant’s hands drop her bra and slide up to her breasts, and that feels amazing, even more amazing when she leans her ass back onto his crotch, and that, even though his pants are still on, she can feel his erection and everything and it’s all such a wonderful thing. She bites her lip, arches a little into his hands, and he gets the message, massages her breasts ardently, until she’s releasing a little moan through the teeth she has dug into her lower lip. And the moan is his trigger, he sits up quickly, attaching his mouth to her breast instead, kissing his way to her nipple, and she’s one hundred percent okay with where this is going.

“ _Fuck,_ ” she whispers into her room, when Grant applies some suction. That’s okay. She’ll take that. She rocks her hips on his crotch a little, uses the seam of her jeans to slide against his zipper – and everything beneath it. He groans a little into her skin, and that’s awesome. She lifts her weight onto her knees, uses her thigh muscles to do the move some more. The little groan turns into a more emphatic one, and suddenly he releases her skin on a single pant. Her fingers move to his pants and they meet Grant’s there. Together they unzip his pants, pull the denim over his hips, work to get his underwear off too – and then – they both realize at the same time that Skye’s pants are still on – Grant’s eyes snap onto hers, hold them for a heartbeat, and then he’s flipping them both over in this ninja move so she’s on her back.

She looks up at him, all of a sudden surprised and impressed. _Where the hell did you come from, nerd._

But Grant is all business, and he kisses his way down her torso, until he’s kissing the button of her jeans, and then he’s undoing them, pulling down the zipper, and she lifts her hips to help him take them off with the fancy thong underwear he won’t even see. Grant leans up on his heels when her pants are off, taking her foot in his hand. It’s not – it’s just a foot she thinks, and she’s not prepared to start exploring the world of foot fetishry right now – but then his thumb is on in her instep, and his fingernail is grazing the skin, and it – there’s a trigger there she didn’t know about. Her eyes fly open. Grant kisses her arch then, and she’s – she’s _here for that_. It’s so… _intimate_.

Even better though? Grant starts kissing his way up her leg, and he makes a new stop every two inches. Her legs aren’t particularly long, so his intentions are quick and awesomely appreciated. That wide, beautiful mouth of his – she liked it on her skin, and her lips, but attached to the crux of her thighs – yeah, that’s probably even better. She squirms when his mouth covers her sex, his tongue teasing her clitoris, his cheeks hollowing out so there’s _suction down there too_ – oh fuck yes – her mouth opens when her breathing turns to shallow, mewing gasps. It maybe lasts a few quick minutes, but she’s there with this hot nerd, she’s done with this hot nerd, and she would rather not cum on his face on this first date, so she wrenches her hips away with effort.

“Everything okay?” Grant gasps, all breathy and hot, and she covers her face with her hand. She nods.

“Y-yeah,” she says. “Fuck, yeah, that was awesome. I need us to fuck now.”

She loves that he grins.

Skye twists and dives for the bedside table, yanking open the top drawer. She looks at the condoms, looks back at Grant, who is back to sitting on his heels. She stares into his lap, sucks on a breath. Yeah, okay, she’ll need the big ones.

Skye draws out the condom grab, in an effort not to look pathetically eager, but she’s into this. Very into this. She turns back to him, props herself on her elbows, bites her lip, catches his gaze, and flicks the foil packet at him. He laughs, softly, grabbing it off the bed and looking it over. He nods when he decides it’s adequate, and she digs her teeth into her lip again and squeezes her thighs together. _Oh, yes, yes yes._ Big-dicked, ripped, ninja book nerd…who also cares about her cat.

_Shit. Doomed._

Grant’s been busy working the condom on while she muses, but then it’s on, and he’s got a blank look on his face until he’s crawled up her body to her face, because then he starts kissing her again, and she remembers to add _excellent kisser_ to his list of growing attributes. Grant’s tongue slides around her mouth with familiarity, and the heat between her slippery, messy thighs blooms. She’s ready to be fucked now. Skye grins, digs between their bodies, tests her hand against his length. Grant hisses through his teeth, and she guides him to her opening, punctuates that he’s in the right spot with a sharp kiss, and then he starts to sink into her. He’s bigger than her last few hook-ups, so it takes a while to get used to him, but she does, every new inch stretching her in this really delicious way. When he’s all the way in…she groans. Hell yes. _Hell. Yes._

Grant’s tumbling exhale dumps into her hair, and he eases out of her, still just as careful, before pushing back in. A few more cautious, probing strokes, and they’re both relieved that this is going to work. Grant starts a slow, dedicated tempo, turning his energies back to kissing her, then kissing along her jaw and neck. It feels great, even better with the fucking, like getting a massage in the bath – great and greater.

She starts to rock with him, and he senses that she wants more to do with how things are going. He presses a wordless question against her lips, she nods, and then he’s turning them over _again_ , and it’s seamless, _again_ , because they don’t even disengage, and her knee doesn’t get caught under his hips – and he’s – _fuck he’s practiced, fuck_ – and she plants her hands on his chest and lifts up her hips, opens her eyes, stares into his as she fucks him. Grant’s large hands move to her ass, rest there unimposing, content to touch the curves of her as she moves. It’s damn hot, and she drops his gaze, drops her head, focusing on her building orgasm instead. It’s there. It’s close, and she bites her lower lip again, focusing on how this hot nerd is filling her in this one-hundred percent way. She can feel him on every side of her vagina, and that’s fucking amazing, even better when she _really_ sinks onto him and her clit presses against his body, because it’s – it’s _something_ , and fuck, that something is pretty nice.

She hears Grant’s finger in his own mouth, and then that finger is on her clit, and her jaw really drops now, because it’s the only thing that’s been missing, it’s great, and she leans back, drops her weight onto her hands; it’s not a position that works with everyone, but it’s working with Grant, she’s still riding him, because of his serendipitously big dick. And here’s the fucking best part – not only is his cock rubbing right against her g-spot, but when she opens her eyes – they can stare at each other over their connected bodies, all the way down her torso, her dipping hips, up his muscled body, and seeing the _rapture_ on his face just makes her want to –

 _Shit_.

She comes mostly on accident, because she’d wanted to last longer, but he’s just so fucking hot, and all, and she can’t really help the way she stills around him, the spasming muscles massaging him so intimately. Grant is apparently close, and not the quitting type, because he takes over the hips action, pumping into her – and she loses count, he hits her at least ten times, maybe twenty – because then she feels him swell inside of her, condom and all, and she can’t look away when his face contorts and he comes too.

It’s – it’s maybe the best thing she’s seen all day. And she has a fucking adorable cat.

 

 

They’re lying in bed together, uninhibitedly naked and curled at odd angles. He’s got his head on her thigh, and she’s half turned, half supported on pillows so they can more or less make eye contact.

“So Sky – “

“Somehow I can hear that you’re not saying the E. It’s _Skye_ , like, s-k-y-e.”

“Skye? It sounds the same.”

“It’s really not.”

“If you say so.”

“Well I do. _Grant_.”

They grin at each other for a moment.

“You know, after all that, I’m not sure Grant suits you as a name anymore.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, that was – some very – uh, un, Grantlike, behavior.”

“Unsure if that’s good or bad.”

“Oh. Good. I like that we didn’t talk about comparative literature.”

“It’s really not so bad – it’s even kind of interesting – “

“Ah! No. I need to be way drunker for that conversation. Preferably like eight more orgasms before I’m willing to talk about that with you.”

“Well what do you study then?” He’s grinning too.

“Computer science.”

“Sounds about right. That computer is – some – well, something. Pretty sure I would break it just looking at it.”

“You probably would.”

He pulls himself up her body again, kisses her sweetly.

“Well, sky with an e, I would really like to take you out again sometime.”

She’s grinning too, pretending to be thoughtful about it. “Did this count as a date? Damn, I swear I should be getting a free meal out of this.”

“I’m more than willing to order in pizza.”

She grins at him, considering. The grin wins. “Go on then.”

His matching grin stretches enthusiastically, and he gets up to go in search of his phone.

She watches him, really appreciating what he looks like from _the back_ , when she remembers.

“Oh shit!”

Grant spins around when he hears her, but she’s scrambling off the bed, darting for the bathroom.

She opens the bathroom door, and an annoyed meow is her reprimand. Skye’s relief is quick and effective, and then she sticks her tongue out at her cat. When she remembers Grant, who is suspiciously quiet, she looks up, and tucks hair behind her ear.

“I uh. I forgot about her.”

Grant’s returning smile is soft then, quiet like he is _in_ that moment. There’s some affection in his gaze when he looks into her eyes then, and it’s – it’s making her all warm all over, but in a different way. In a summer breeze sort of way.

“Yeah. Me too.”


End file.
